


What Hurts The Most

by Livinthemoment



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Charles Xavier Needs a Hug, Charles You Will Be Drunk, Disturbing Themes, Erik Has Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post Beach Divorce, Protective Erik, Sad, Sad with a Happy Ending, Songfic, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-29 01:13:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16253624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Livinthemoment/pseuds/Livinthemoment
Summary: When Erik goes to check on Charles after the events in First Class, he is faced with the devastating reality of his action. The state of his dear friend breaks down every wall he tried to build between the professor and himself.





	What Hurts The Most

“Ch-Charles?” Erik’s voice was oddly faint in the large room, swallowed by the enormity. He scanned over the wreckage, inspecting what was once a grand library. He spotted the smaller man within seconds, lying lifeless on the floor, looking around more carefully he could see bottles littering the carpet. Books that were once treasured now lay torn apart, the hand-carved chessboard that severed as a late night fixer for so long was now staring at him accusingly amongst the chaos. A pit formed in his stomach as the realization hit him. He did this, he caused the kindest man he had ever knew to do this. Steeling himself he tried again, balling his fists, he made his way over to the shaking figure. 

“Charles, it’s me.” He didn't want to startle him, so his voice was kept low, an almost pleading tone emanating from an unknown place. He waited for a second till a low wet noise made its way from the lump, that's when his own resolve crumbled. It often did when it came to Charles. He took in his dear friend, who was once lively and full of life, now ragged and thin. His hair was long and greasy, it hung in his face-obscuring it. Erik could see that he was clutching a bottle of brandy, his hands had cuts and were caked with blood. Appearing frail an illusion of bones with a thin layer of skin draped over them, it caused the pit to grow heavier.

He kneeled down, waves of panic rolled off the shattered man and impaled Erik like broken glass. Squaring his shoulder and clearing his throat he tried to be more firm, “Charles, it’s Erik. Can you look at me?”

As soon as the words left his mouth he regretted them, how could he look this man in the eye. Knowing that his eyes that once held hope and love, would now be glassy and rimmed red, the cheeks which often held a tint of blush that simply let you know he was alive, would now be sunken and without colour. These were the things he was assuming he would see, a bitter man with no love in him, just rage and resentment for the one person that caused him so much torment and misery. He wasn't prepared for his dear sweet friend to look up with a tender smile that spread its way across the sad face.

“My dear friend,” Charles looked at Erik like a man dying of thirst, and he just spotted a nearby stream. His voice was hoarse and useless, if Erik hadn’t been so close he would have missed his muted words. The delicate lips he loved so much were now cracked, barring him from properly speaking.  
“Y-you are not here… for I am not there-“ As Charles spoke his voice faded and caught in his throat. He was staring at Erik's face, his hand twitching like all he wanted to do was reach out and touch but was unable to. Truthfully Erik wished he would at least try. 

“What are you talking about Charles? I'm right here... just, please. Know I'm right here.” Charles' lip quivered, a few more tears ran down his cheeks. 

“I.. I want you t-to be here. Er-” He looked down again, letting out a whine when he tried to say the others name. “-But it’s just my mind playing games. H-h… He’s never coming back to m..me.” More tears fell, followed by sobbed that racked his poor friend's weak body. He could feel the panic start to take over again, without thinking he reached out and swiped a tear from his cheek. His head snapped up and his ocean eyes washed over him, dragging him in and confining him to the spot. Charles froze, his breathing halted with a rigid gasp. Erik cupped the cheek he had stroked, feeling the bones beneath; so fragile, so vulnerable, all because of him. Pain raced through his veins, for a moment he didn’t know if it was Charles projecting, or his own body forcing him to suffer for what he did to the only man he ever loved. 

“You are here.” This forced Erik back to reality, the hands that were gripping the bottle for dear life were now wrapped around Erik’s wrist. Making sure he wasn’t going anywhere, more waves of panic mixed with something similar to relief came. It filled his mind and body so rapidly he had to bit his lip at nausea that followed the onslaught of foreign emotion. 

“Yes, Charles. I’m here.” Before the words were completely out he was hit with a wall of affection and relief, also a lap full of Charles. Automatically his arms locked around the smaller man, sadly noting that he could feel how prominent his bones were through the thin robe that was wrapped around him. Charles had hidden his face in Erik's neck, soaking his shirt with tears, his shaking becoming increasingly worse. Clutching him tighter, Erik stood up and started the short walk from the study to the bedroom they had once shared.

He didn’t look around, keep his eyes focused on the man in his arms, whose grip was so tight it was almost painful. Using his powers Erik opened the door quickly closing it behind them. He walked to the edge of the bed finally letting his eyes wander, with a sudden realization he saw that the room was untouched. A fine layer of dust covering most of the furniture, the heavy drapes pulled close to block out the rest of the world. With a sigh he lowered his friend to the bed effectively breaking the hold he had on him, a pitiful whimper left the younger ma, Erik’s heart clenched at the sound. 

“I’m not leaving, Charles. But you need to sleep.” He ran his fingers through the long hair as the other man's eyes slipped closed, and he leaned more into the palm. Erik slowly withdrew and turned to walk away, intent on going to the kitchens to see if he could find something for them to eat.

As he stepped away he heard a shallow cry and a thump. Then a tug on the back of his shirt, he quickly looked over his shoulder. Charles sat awkwardly on the floor, his hand clutching the fabric so tight his fingers were white with exertion. He frowned at the man, promptly shaking off the feeble grip he lowered himself to once again pick up the other man. Placing him on the bed he met the lost eyes.

“Don’t go,” the plea was quiet and subdued, he almost thought he imagined it. Then he heard it again in his head, over and over again. All the words that Charles wanted to say, but never did, a damn was breaking and Erik was sure he was about to drown. Most of the words lashed around his mind, some caressed him with a tender, almost loving touch. As quick as it started it stopped, the world was still once again. He looked at Charles who lowered his head to hide in Erik's neck. 

‘I…ilovedyou… I sti-‘ These words were so rushed, so breathy, that he didn’t know if these were spoken into his mind, or whispered into his skin. It didn't matter, the second he heard them he kicked off his shoes as he pulled Charles with him back on the bed. He held him to his chest, pressing him so close he was daring anyone to try and take him away. Charles said nothing, only made a surprised noise but didn't protest. He just nuzzled further into Erik, smelling him and taking deep breaths. 

“Me too,” he whispered, rubbing his back with one hand while pulling the blanket up with the other. “I love you too…” He kept whispering into the rumpled brown hair that overwhelmed his senses.

“I’m so sorry for this Charles. I’m not leaving you again. Just please be okay.” Charles sent him mental images of the last six months. Of himself alone in his study or sleeping in the room that once belonged to Erik. He sent him all the pain and fear he felt being alone in this vast house, but then he sent him the feeling of being warm and safe. Of how being wrapped up in his arms was soothing the wounds of past. It was infinitely more painful, knowing that Charles felt all of that and still accepted Erik and his touch. 

“Sleep now,” he muttered. ‘We have much to talk about.' he expressed the second part directly into his mind, trying to communicate as much love and calmness into it as he could.

He closed his eyes knowing this wasn't the end, that they still had so much to work out. He took comfort in knowing that whatever happened when they woke up, it would be okay because they were together. It would be comforting to sleep now, with his dear friend curled up, secure in his arms. At this moment he vowed he would keep Charles safe from everyone, and everything. He vowed that there was no more running, fighting, or causing the love of his life to become something unrecognizable. He vowed that he was never going to be the one that hurt him the most. 

 

For the first few weeks, Charles would forget Erik was real. He would start to panic, thinking he was ‘losing his mind’. At first, Erik wasn't sure what to do, resolving to just hold him to his chest, forcing Charles to feel his heartbeat.

“It’s okay… I'm here… Charles, feel my pulse. Darling, come back to me.” Sometimes it would work, he would snap out of it; clinging to Erik and sobbing till he fell asleep. Except sometimes it wouldn't work, the dread emitting from Charles was too much. Those days he felt so helpless it made him sick to see what he had reduced Charles too. The smaller man would practically vibrate in his arms, even when he tried so many things to bring him back. Singing in German helped sometimes, soothe him enough to sense the heartbeat was real, to be able to hear Erik’s thoughts racing to try and comfort him. When singing didn't work Erik would climb into the shower with the shaking man, turn on the water as hot as they could stand and remain till the room to fill with steam. The trick was something his mother used on him when he was very small, bringing him to the bathhouse when he was sick and sit with him. He would push the hair from his face and whisper ‘come back to me, my sweet darling.’ till the telepath stopped shaking and slumped against his chest. 

When things were better Raven returned; along with the rest of the Brotherhood and some of the Xmen. They were all cautions around Charles, not because they were scared of him; but because they were afraid of Erik. 

The two of them were always in contact, sometimes in a simple way; a hand on the arm or fingers brushing. More often though it was surprisingly intimate, Erik would draw Charles into his lap, fit the smaller frame against his own and just hold him. 

Slowly, things went back to normal as they opened the school again, re-formed the Xmen. It was a place of peace for them both yet sometimes late at night, Erik would wake up alone in bed. Heart pounding, fingers numb, the only sound was water crashing on a beach and Charles screaming.

With the taste of vomit lodged his throat, he would immediately call out of his beloved, his voice shaky and low not expecting anyone to hear him. Unsurprisingly, Charles did every time. He would be there to quiet him, reassure him he was only in his office grading papers, that he was here.  
He would hold Erik well caressing his hair, telling him they were together and reminding him that he came back. On these nights Charles would climb into bed, wrapping himself around Erik's mind and body. Letting him experience all the happiness and love that Erik brings into his life, whispering that he was loved, safe, and with Charles... now and forever.


End file.
